2001 Chrysler

Most people know that the Chrysler PT Cruiser is a fairly ugly car, but not many are aware that the PT Cruiser is single-handedly responsible for the death of both Detroit and the American Dream.

Designed to look like a classic American hot-rod, but emerging from the factory as a rather lukewarm estate, the PT Cruiser is equal parts Hackney-cab and Hearse.

This explains why it became the first choice of suburban fathers like myself, who find themselves ferrying kids everywhere in the sure knowledge that their youthful dream of one day owning a nice car is over forever.

This particularly awful example is a manual, petrol, touring edition Y-reg with 90k on the clock.

Disappointingly, the car is mechanically fine. It starts and runs every damn time without fail. It had a new clutch recently (cost more than the car was worth. Sigh). It is warm in winter, cool in summer, and pretty cheap to run. It has all four wheels.

These facts are a let down, because everything else about this car is an absolute horror-show.

Lowlights include a workable but rather pathetically slack handbrake (don’t park on hills!), a small chip in the windscreen (not an MOT failure, though why is beyond me) and a broken aerial (thanks cheap garage car wash!) which doesn’t stop you getting a signal but seems to prefer you listen to Surrey’s Radio Jackie. So if you like listening to Abba on repeat you’ll be fine. Otherwise there’s a cassette/CD player. ‘Who has cassettes these days?‘ I hear you ask.

PT Cruiser owners. That’s who.

Also inside the car you’ll find an air-freshener. It is utterly redundant. Thrown in for free are various sweet wrappers, some sticky lollies, many Peppa Pig stickers, a few pence in small change and the case for a missing Smiths CD (The Queen Is Dead. Good album. I miss that CD. Probably still in the car somewhere so you can have that for free).

Did I mention central-locking? Yeah, this car doesn’t have that. It should. But it doesn’t. The rear seats are imprinted, possibly forever, with the outline of two child seats.

You’ll also benefit from sharing the many happy family memories we have made in this car. Feel the joy of our Christmas every time you sit on one of the many liberally scattered pine needles throughout. Relive our summer at the beach with the sand pile in the boot. Reminisce about walks in the wood with our dog, every time you spot another muddy paw print on the floor or seats. The car also comes with 4 free floor mats. Best you don’t look under them.

Outside my wife is proud to boast that there is not a single panel without a scratch or dent. Except the boot. She’s working on the boot. The paint is far from lustrous and has begun to crack in many places. The car has not been washed in many months. On the plus side this means you can clearly can see the noticeable improvement in my daughter’s handwriting, as she’s taken to writing her name in the dirt.

Car comes with four alloys, all scuffed. Some quite dramatically so.

There is no rust. What could rust take away that this car doesn’t already lack?

So let’s skip to the benefits.

Amazingly the car has been deemed roadworthy and still has 3 months on its current MOT and around 5 months road tax. I have all paperwork for the clutch and previous services.

The number plate is short and reasonably memorable.

The lights all work (although the front passenger headlight is dim and the rear fog light casings are cracked, obviously).

If you pick it up you’ll get a day out in Leatherhead. We have a new burger restaurant you could go to. It’s okay-ish.

Insurance is cheap and you don’t need to worry about the car being broken into, you’ll barely notice if it is.

It has heated seats. Cosy.

And I’ll throw in Elizabeth, our grumpy, whiny Magellan Sat-nav. She’ll always get you where you’re going eventually, however she does not like to be contradicted, so you stand warned.

The car was previously owned by one careful lady driver. I expect if she could see it now she would weep. Sorry careful lady driver.

So why would anyone buy this ton of junk?

Perhaps you are devoid of taste, or have a poor sense of judgement? Perhaps you are a student who needs a car for an exciting contemporary art project? Or are an engineer in need of some practice? Perhaps you do not feel that the car you drive in any way defines who you are and do not place a value on material possessions (in which case, good for you).

Perhaps you live in London and you’re resigned to the fact that your car will only get smashed up, scratched or broken into in time anyway. Perhaps you feel it’s time to trade up from your tired old carthorse? Perhaps you just like metal quite a lot?

The car would also make a fine first purchase if you have an over-indulged teenager who has learnt to drive but doesn’t yet appreciate the value of money, hard work or shame.

Perhaps you have a relative you don’t like very much whose life insurance you hope to benefit from?

Whatever your reason, I just need rid of this car. So please buy it and put me out of my misery.

Given that it does drive fine and accounting for what it's worth in parts to someone who can be bothered to scrap it, I'm looking for £500 but am aware that's quite optimistic. And I can’t scrap it because the kids gave it a name, so apparently it’s now ‘part of the family.’

We’ll probably use the money we can get for it to go to the cinema.

Or make a down-payment on a Ferrari 250 GTO.

Either / or.

Call Dan on 07872 456 780 if you have any questions, like ‘Why?’ Or ‘How could you?’